


The loss

by Sarthker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, BAMF Harry Potter, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Gen, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Will Add More Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarthker/pseuds/Sarthker
Summary: When Harry's hopes of having a nice, peaceful school year are broken, courtesy of a pesky revived wizardly tournament, he decides to finally take the reins of his life, breaking all expectations.OrHarry has had enough, he leaves Magic Britain behind, or does he?Tags will probably change as the story is written.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, others
Comments: 26
Kudos: 62





	1. The Loss of Potential

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by oh so many powerfull Harry fics on this site but with a twist right at the beginning. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :D

“…But in the end, only one will go down in history! Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory, The Triwizard Cup!!”

Harry was relieved, for once since he started Hogwarts it seemed that nothing un-seemingly would happen to him in Hallows Eve. For once it seemed as if he could live the rest of his scholar year in peace.

And peace was something he so badly needed in his life, what with all the ploys, mass murderers, psychopaths, alleged murderers, betrayals, ‘living’ writing-utensils, giant snakes, _giant_ spiders, psychotic (although well intended) house-elves, giant drooling three headed dogs, deceptively easy-enough-for-an-11-years-old-to-solve traps supposed to ward an item that _could_ have brought the aforementioned mass murderer back to life and trolls. Harry thought he, above all people he knew, deserved a peaceful year.

However, his ‘this is totally going to end up screwing me one way or another’ sense started tingling. Hard.

Imagine his surprise when the Goblet of Fire _dared_ spit out another piece of paper. He didn’t even needed to read it to know it was his name, hell, at that point he really didn’t cared at all.

He was sick and tired of it; he was metaphorically out of fucks to give. If his stay on the magic world _demanded_ for him to risk his life at every beck and call, he would much rather live as a _common_ muggle for the rest of his life, ostracized from the world he thoroughly enjoyed (save for the perilous tasks people somehow expected a teen to accomplish) but alive nonetheless, thank you very much.

As the rest of the hall stared in silence at the floating piece of paper, Harry inched closer to Hermione, a sad expression but with more determination that he’d ever had on his face.

“I’ll write you when… _if_ I can”

Hermione still felt entranced by the atmosphere of the hall, barely registering what Harry said.

“Wait…what?”

With a kiss to her forehead and a soft whisper, Harry stood up, walking firmly towards the Head Table

“… Goodbye ‘Mione”

* * *

No one noticed the lone figure that was steadily approaching the headmasters and the school’s staff, everyone too enraptured to the, surprisingly, still floating paper.

“Harry Po- “

Dumbledore couldn’t finish the sentence, seemingly out of nowhere Harry freaking Potter was standing there, at the front of the hall, wand pointing to the sky and steel on his voice.

“I, Harry James Potter, heir of House Potter, son of Lily Potter née Evans and James Potter, in front of all these witnesses solemnly swear, on my magic and my life, that I have not tried in any shape or form, with or without help, to enter my name as a candidate for the Triwizard Tournament. So mote it be.”

In front of the baffled looks of _everyone_ in the Great Hall, the tip of Harry’s wand started to shine brightly before encompassing the entirety of his being, dimming thereafter.

Harry took a deep breath, looking at Dumbledore in his eyes and casting a single _Lumos_ , demonstrating his still functioning magic.

“Do I still need to participate on the tournament, professor?”

Ludo Bagman was the first one to break out of the stupor, obviously enthused by the weird turn of events.

“Amazing! I believe is the first time we have had an extra contestant for the tournament! To answer your question, young man, I’m afraid you _do_ need to participate, the contest has a magic contract you see. Once you enter your name to the goblet you are magically _bound_ to participate, otherwise you will lose your magic.”

Maintaining his calm, Harry inquired further.

“So even if I didn’t enter my name, I am going to be forced to participate on a tournament that is supposed to be restricted to _adults_ and was supposed to have _only_ three participants?”

Snape sneered at Potter, malice lacing his words

“Oh, come on, Potter. Despite your _display_ at innocence, you can’t fool everyone. You are still the same arrogant, stupid brat that would do anything for _more_ fame. Just like your father.”

Bagman continued “I’m afraid you _have_ to participate, not even the Ministry can remove a contestant once they are selected for the tournament.”

Harry sighed “So be it, then” just as everyone thought he would accept his role, the walls and the floor of the hall started trembling, the light of the candles started dimming until the whole feel of the room turned solemn and _regal_. A visible bubble-like shield appeared, enveloping Harry and isolating him from the rest of the world.

In front of him a small, golden, point of shinning brightness appeared, increasing in size by the second. It continued to grow until it became a sphere as big as _Hagrid_ himself and almost as shiny as the sun at midday. Despite the brightness, people could still see directly at it without complains.

McGonagall and Flitwick’s faces turned ashen. They both mumbled under their breaths.

“I…is that his…”

“Is he going to…”

Dumbledore snapped into action quickly, he dared not disturb the _sphere_ of raw magic right in front of him, but tried to tear down the shield surrounding the young wizard.

With a thunderous voice that permeated the _entirety_ of the castle, Harry declared.

“I, Harry James Potter, son of Lily Potter née Evans and James Potter, being sane of mind and without external compulsions or coercions, with Hogwarts and her guests as witness…”

“Severus, Minerva, Filius, quick! We need to stop him before- “

Storming winds started gathering in the Hall, cutlery and robes went flying as if in a tornado. Despite the, quite frankly, apocalyptic scene, the students of all three schools were _enraptured_ by the situation at hand, none tried to run, none tried to even _think_ , all eyes focused to the tantalizing-golden sphere and the boy next to it.

“…hereby declare that, in face of extreme circumstances, I relinquish my magic…”

At this point the other two headmasters and almost all of Hogwarts’ staff joined the attempts to break the shield.

“…may Lady Magic herself address my grievances and strike down those that have forced my hand…”

Dumbledore turned more and more frantic by the second, tears started to form in his eyes. Everyone was witnessing perhaps _the_ greatest magic core in history, even greater than the one that Merlin, reportedly, possessed. He could see that the other two headmasters, along with several (but not all) of the staff members _understood_ the implications of it.

Pain was cruising throughout Harry’s body, as if someone was tearing him apart. Nevertheless, his voice never faltered, his hands never shook, his legs never wobbled. Moving his heard to look back at the Gryffindor table, his eyes locked with Hermione’s. Silently he mouthed while smiling at her “Call you later.”

Looking back at the front, smile still in his lips, he saw the now ghastly visage of both Dumbledore and Snape.

_“So mote it be.”_

Contrary to what everyone thought would happen, the sphere just vanished without a sound, rather anticlimactically. The flying stuffs serendipitously fell in between the tables of the Hall, avoiding everyone.

The hall returned to its usual brightness; all the shaking had stopped. An immense sense of sadness and loss permeated the air for everyone understood what _they_ just lost. What the magical world had just been deprived of.

No one dared say a word. No one deign break the silence that now reigned. Only one figure, in sight of everyone, broke the solemn mood when he fell to his knees, coughing out a blob of blood.

Still, no one tried to approach him, everyone seemingly processing the last few seconds.

Wiping his mouth with his robe, Harry once again stood, now paler than before. Those with keen sight could see the slight shaking of his body. No doubt the boy was ready to fall into unconsciousness, remaining awake by sheer will.

“No longer will I be your plaything” his voice coarse, his mouth spurting blood every now and then “no longer will I be object of your mockery, of your jealousy, of your derision” he looked at each of the house tables “of your pity” he looked at Dumbledore and noticed the insurmountable look of sadness in his eyes “or your baseless hatred” he looked at Snape and he could have sworn that the potion-master avoided his gaze.

“Too many times I have risked my life only to be ostracized, too many times have my life been put in danger in favor of some sick plot to control my ‘destiny’” he looked down and for the first time his voice broke “too many times I have been put down for trying only to be ‘normal’” he looked at his wand for a second, almost caressing it before snapping it in two “well, this is it. You won” with venom in his eyes he took off his robe, exposing his, now glamourless, torso for all to see. A horrible mesh of scars and bruises, wounds old and new, his most shameful secret now in plain view of _everyone_ , eliciting gasping sounds and muffled sobs all around the Hall.

“No more” he said in an almost inaudible whisper, a mocking smile tracing his mouth “Dobby!” he spoke, his voice regaining his previous firmness. His gaze getting soft when the ridiculously dressed house-elf appeared in front of him.

“Great master Harry Potter called for Dobby?” the elf intoned in his usual over-the-top style, eyes growing big when he saw the state Harry was in “What ha-“

“Dobby…” Harry interrupted the over enthusiastic house-elf before he could ask his question “… take me the hell out of here” he snarled between gritted teeth “I need to rest.”

Harry took the hand of the small being and, with a cracking sound, he was gone from Hogwarts, leaving behind looks of bewilderment, shame and guilt.

Only one person managed to mutter something, his only eye wide open while the magical contraption scanned the whole room, religiously.

"Well, shit."


	2. The Loss of Normalcy pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magical Britain has to face the consequences of Harry's breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for your response and support on the previous chapter!
> 
> On this chapter I start the worldbuilding needed for the rest of the story.
> 
> Hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing! :D

The great Hall stood mostly silent, sans the sobbing sounds coming mostly from three of the House tables. Not surprisingly, each of the houses could be distinctly classified by their reaction to the whole incident.

Gryffindors were clearly saddened, most of its alumni looking at the empty table spot that Harry used to favor with dejected looks, notable exceptions were the female members of the Quidditch team who were openly crying, Neville Longbottom who sported a resolute expression on his face and Hermione whose usually inquisitive look was replaced by an emotionless mask.

Hufflepuffs were in a kind of a guilt trip, they were absolutely ecstatic for having Cedric as their champion just moments ago. Many of its members were thinking that, had Harry not denied his participation in the tournament in such a grandiose fashion, they would be extremely upset with (if not outright cursing) the name of Harry freaking Potter, much to their chagrin.

Ravenclaws were mostly in curious awe to what they just witnessed, save for the _Beauxbâtons_ delegation that was seated there, comprised mostly of girls who were trying really hard to fight back tears. Some people, mostly those of older years, were even forming small discussion groups trying to make sense to the rather spectacular and unique way Harry used to decline his participation in the tournament.

Slytherins had a surprising mix of emotions within their midst. Most of the house, along with the _Durmstrang_ delegation were just shocked out of their wits from what they saw. Having the highest percentage of pureblood students along their alumni most understood just how ridiculously impossible the size of Harry’s magical core was. Although the notion of a wizard openly showing their magical core had scarce examples throughout history, those who descended from pureblood lineages had a more comprehensive understanding regarding that fact. And they knew two things: Firstly, Harry Potter was the closest thing to a present-day Merlin.

Or at least he _had_ the potential to become one.

The second thing they knew was that Harry bloody Potter had committed, in their eyes, the stupidest act they could ever witness. They saw Harry’s body breaking down near the end of his speech, they _knew_ the consequences of what destroying a _normal_ magical core could do to a wizard, never mind the monstrosity of Harry’s core. All of that paled in comparison to _the_ important fact, Harry had either become a squib, at best or a muggle, at worst. A fate worse than death, according to pureblooded views.

Some small pockets of Slytherins, mostly the younger years who were still not fully indoctrinated into the ‘Potter-is-worse-than-trash’ herd mentality, were as saddened as the lions. Of particular note were a pair of pureblooded sisters, the Greengrass. Astoria, the youngest, joined the sentiment of her snake year mates, openly displaying her sadness over the whole ordeal. Her older sister, true to her moniker as Slytherin’s _Ice Queen_ , displayed no emotion. Eerily similar to the reaction of one Hermione Granger, not one _living_ soul noticed that, though.

At the Head Table things weren’t too dissimilar, both guest Headmasters stared at where the _golden boy_ once stood, their faces revealing the shock they were currently feeling. Most of the staff were too lightheaded, after spending considerable amounts of magic in an effort to stop the boy, to care about anything at all, some slouched on their chairs, some heavily panting.

McGonagall and Flitwick’s cheeks were wet with tears, although for different reasons each. Hers for now she considered just how _broken_ inside the young prodigy must have felt, just how disappointed he must have been with the people that were supposed to protect him. His for he experienced the loss of magic more vividly than anyone else in the room, thanks to his half-goblin inheritance. The fact that Harry was the son of his favorite student just amplified his feelings of guilt towards the injustice done to the boy.

Snape situation was complicated. He didn’t seem to share that look of sadness that his colleagues adopted, instead one could see several emotions in his obsidian-like eyes. Anger, frustration, shame and… disgust? He, unlike the others, was glaring firmly at the Headmaster, his savior, employer and master. He barely took a second to regain his inexpressive face. Never before had he raised his Occlumency shields as impatiently as in that moment, bottling up all his raging emotions as effectively as possible.

He would have to change a lot of his plans and a disciplined mind was indispensable for it, lest he _again_ failed miserably, as he has had for the past _thirteen_ years.

If someone had paid attention and he was asked who seemed to be the most affected out of this _episode_ , indubitably the answer would have been Dumbledore. The man was old but never really looked his age, until that moment that is. One only had to look at his eyes, the familiar warmth and (arguably) annoying twinkling that always accompanied them all but gone. Suddenly he appeared disheveled, his bright garments, out of the blue, looked _wrong_ on him. It offered a sick contrast between the cheery atmosphere they all were part of before and the gloom, almost mourning, one that now permeated the air.

Enraptured as they were in their own minds, no one noticed when a certain one-eyed, limp-gaited, bullet-sweating ex-Auror left the Hall, turning a corner and, when he was sure no one was watching, limping frantically to his quarters.

* * *

* * *

Deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts one could find a massive ball room. Cobwebs adorned most, if not all the walls, worn down fabrics could be seen hanging from them, once full of color, now plain white or gray. On the middle of the room, a few feet below the ceiling, a huge arrangement of floating candles shone in a cold-blue light, illuminating most of it. A couple of tables were arranged next to the walls, an assortment of ‘food’, dubious in aroma _and_ origin, littered them randomly in small heaps.

A celebration was being held. It was the 502nd Deathday of a Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, better know as Nearly Headless Nick by the living inhabitants of the castle. Sure, the celebration wasn’t as massive or ‘jovial’ as the 500th one still, most of the ghostly members of Hogwarts (professor Binns being a notable exception, perhaps to the relief everyone else present) assisted each year, mostly because of the kind demeanor of the host.

And the food.

“Nick, how come I haven’t seen your living friends celebrating with you since your 500th?” a particularly ghoulish specter, his robes stained with silver bloodstains and heavy chains attached to several points on his body asked on a friendly manner.

“My friend! I just _knew_ you would come!” the aristocratic visage of an otherwise normal man responded. “I’m afraid that the same reason why most of our guests can’t even imagine missing one of these celebrations is the cause of their unattendance.”

“The food?”

“The food.”

The Bloody Baron and Nicholas gave each other an understanding nod.

“Well, considering their first Deathday party was the one held two years ago, I can somehow understand their reticence. We had a lot of roosters that year after all, had we not?”

“Such a ghastly year if I do say so myself. I still fail to understand exactly how they managed to un-petrify me” Sir Nicholas said with a light chuckle “I can only say I’m proud that young Harry Potter is a Gryffindor. Hopefully in the distant future when he passes away, he’ll decide to join us, he’ll make an excellent…”

The whole structure started trembling, taking the ghastly guests by surprise, although they were more curious than alarmed. Most of them started gossiping just as a _regal_ voice started declaring its intents.

When the voice and the quaking stopped, the ‘exciting’ atmosphere of the ‘party’ turned (as surprising as it may sound) gloomier. In an incredible act of metaphysics, the ghostly being of Sir Nicholas turned so pale it almost seemed as if he was _corporeal_. Head now hanging upside-down, from a single string of flesh, his jaw aiming to reach the ceiling.

Just as the non-corporeal form of the Bloody Baron tried to give a reassuring gesture by patting his undead friend on the shoulder, a loud whiny screech (not unlike those of a banshee) stopped everyone in their tracks as the perpetrator of such an ungodly sound flew right out of the room, her destination unknown.

“MY HAAAAAAARRRRRRYYYYYYY NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“Ah, I see Myrtle attended your party” commented the Grey Lady “she’ll probably go to _her_ bathroom to weep for the next few years” her composure seemed to falter a bit as she also proceeded to leave the room “I will have to inform mother of _this_ …”

The unliving guests decided to leave as well, each musing on their own, leaving only the three remaining House ghosts behind.

“Things are going to change” mused loudly the Bloody Baron as the Fat Friar helped his friend by holding his head upright.

“Don’t you want to follow Helena to speak with the founders?” Asked the cheery ghost “After all, we _are_ supposed to inform them whenever things like _this_ happen”

The ghoulish ghost shook his head “Rowena will just shout at me if she sees me. Helena’s report should be more than enough, I would love to see Salazar’s reaction though. The boy is…or was… a parselmouth after all” he grinned a bit “no, I think it’s better if we stay with Nicholas until he recovers from the shock, knowing him it will take a while.”

“Right after you, then” the fat ghost offered a smile while still holding his friend’s head.

And so, the lifeless trio flew out of the ball room, not before taking one last ‘taste’ of the putrid food.

* * *

* * *

Business was just as usual on the second-lowest floor beneath the Ministry of Magic. Unspeakables could be seen going to and fro, some walking in direction to the Ministry lifts (only way to get into the Ministry Atrium and all the upper levels), some walked among the black-tiled walls towards the Department of Mysteries proper.

Someone had pasted, long ago, a note right next to the Department’s entrance: “ _Boring is good.”_ It had become the unofficial motto in no time. Some of the subjects the Unspeakables routinely worked on were usually prone to _less-than-pleasant_ experiences for everyone involved whenever something ‘exciting’ happened.

Indeed, boring _was_ good.

A trio of Unspeakables had just finished their shifts and were about to take the lifts when a tremor began, _violently_. For what felt like _minutes_ the now frightened-as-hell group huddled together, praying to sweet Merlin, Morgana and even Dumbledore. Prayers that seemed to be answered because, to the relief of the group, the shaking stopped as suddenly as it started.

Amelia Bones had just finished a court session, nothing too important given that only a fraction of the Wizengamot were actually present for it. Something about a rogue wizard smuggling a herd of _Lethifolds_ on his shrunken wardrobe. Eventually he was fined heavily and sent to do some time at the not-so-horrible part of Azkaban.

She still rolled her eyes whenever she recalled the events. The now sentenced _insisted_ that he thought the six or so _Lethifolds_ were just charmed cloaks, he even brought a heavily charmed cloak of his own to show the similarities between it and one of the beasts. He would’ve made a solid point had the _Lethifold_ not attempted to suffocate him right then and there. The quick response of the Auror present made the beast retreat, leaving him unconscious but thankfully alive.

Musing about the day’s events she stopped and frowned heavily once she arrived at the top of the stairs. She found a group of three Unspeakables in a hug-group, clustered in the ground near the lifts. They were visibly shaken, she noticed.

Coughing a bit too loud to garner their attention she spoke to the eldest of the group, the one who seemed to have regained her wits.

“Care to explain what are you three doing?” her voice stern but not unkind, years as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) taught her the correct voice tone to get information out of people.

The Unspeakable recognized madam Bones instantly “we were on our way to the lifts when the earthquake started, so we just pa-“

Amelia lifted a hand to interrupt her “What do you mean with _earthquake_?”

She noticed when a look of confusion replaced the fright in one of the remaining Unspeakables “The quake ma’am, it was pretty intense and lasted for a while, didn’t you feel it?”

Amelia raised a brow “I just came out of the Wizengamot courtroom, I can assure you three that there was no shaking of any kind on level ten.”

The three Unspeakables stared at each other for a second before reaching a consensus.

_“Oh shit?”_

_“Oh shit.”_

_“Oh shit!”_

The panicking trio forgot all about madam Bones and started running towards the department, knowing some particular weird witchcraft was afoot for it to only affect the level the Department of Mysteries was in.

To describe what they saw inside the Department as _chaos_ would be a massive understatement. Years later one avid historian would describe the scene as _pandemonium with a bit of hell on the side_.

The Time and Space chambers were intact. In the case of the Space Chamber, Unspeakables that happened to be there during what would later be dubbed as the _Great Shake of ‘94_ reported no quaking, tremoring, shaking or even vibrating that could be felt. Later attributed to the state of mid-air floating from most of them. The Time Room had several time-turners that fell off the shelves, no reported losses nor injuries besides that.

The Love Chamber just wasn’t there anymore. The usually locked door just faded away. Unspeakables inside the Chamber were found inside the Department next to the place that once housed the Chamber’s door. They reported a tug not unlike what one felt when using a portkey. The reaction of the general public in regards to the sudden disappearance of the room was mixed. Some celebrated the loss of the greatest deposit of undiluted _Amortentia_ known to Magical Britain, some of the less savory folk mourned it.

Perhaps the less afflicted of the remaining three rooms was the Brain Room. Although it reported no physical or structural damage, the happenings inside it creeped more than one Unspeakable. Reports stated that all the brains inside the room were _weeping_. The composition and origin of the tears were subject of much debate in the following years. Astonishingly enough, the usual aggressiveness of said brains was gone for several weeks, giving the Unspeakables stationed there plenty of time to further their research. One particular Unspeakable that discovered the return to ‘normalcy’ on part of the brains was later awarded with an Order of Merlin Third Class, after she abruptly chose to retire whilst being on her 3rd month of recovery at St. Mungo’s.

The damage done to the Death Chamber saw it patrolled, both with Aurors and Unspeakables, for months after the incident. A large crack was formed on top of the stone archway crack that somehow managed to run through the _veil_ itself. The now cracked veil seemed more _solid_ than before, an Unspeakable who was researching the veil reported seeing a hand appear from the middle of the crack, slowly approaching him while he was paralyzed in shock. A second Unspeakable saw this and, after a barrage of spells aimed at the ethereal hand, forced it to retreat back to the crack. When interviewed for a mental assessment, the first one statedly said “ _Every time I think of that hand I get the hibbie jibbies”_. As a side note, the affected Unspeakable was the first transfer out of a batch of 5 hailing from America, thanks to the recently signed cooperation agreement between the Ministry of Magic and the MACUSA.

Finally, the Hall of Prophecy couldn’t be in worse shape even if someone had tried to destroy it. Everything in a 100-foot radius from a particular center point was totally leveled. At the center of it, which was later revealed to be somewhere in row 97, one lone prophecy stood floating as if it still rested on its shelf. No matter the effort used to move it, either magical or mundane, it wouldn’t budge at all. In a corner of the room, a magical fire of unexplained origins was later extinguished, not before it burnt down the records of _all_ the prophecies in the hall, effectively rendering all the surviving prophecies as a mystery.

Fortunately, no Unspeakable was present on the Hall at the moment of the event, so no loss of life was directly attributed to the _Great Shake of ’94_ , although it gave several restless nights and headaches to everyone working at the Mysteries department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally supposed to be centered around the reactions of the Hogwarts alumni to Harry's rash actions. I decided to gloss over them for now, focusing on some world building that will be expanded upon at least on the next chapter.
> 
> The idea of having the ghosts came out of the blue for me. They are an underappreciated asset in my opinion and most fics out there outright ignore their existence. Expect more of them in the future!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. I know we are all eager to see Harry coping with his new situation but i believe it's okay to leave him be for a while and focus on the rest of the world every now and then.
> 
> If you managed to read this far, Thanks. As always, any idea, suggestion or critique is deeply appreciated. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, this is my second work.  
> Expect updates _maybe_ once every two weeks, don't hold me up to it. I could be updating far more or far less frequently, sorry.
> 
> If you are interested, feel free to read my other work(s)!
> 
> Hope you liked the story! please comment, any critique is welcome and will help me better my writing! :D


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